Twelve Years Later
by Bernarde
Summary: Sequel to "Just This Once". Matt can't stop dwelling on the match he had with Edge earlier. Upset beyond belief, all he wants is to let it go for a night. Jeff has a few suggestions.


**Title:** Twelve Years Later  
**Author: **Bernade  
**Rating:** NC17  
**Summary: **HARDYCEST. Sequel to "Just This Once". It's nearly midnight and Matt is dwelling on the match he had with Edge earlier. Upset beyond belief, all he wants is to let it go for a night. Jeff can't bear watching his beloved brother suffer and knows just the way to make him feel better.  
**Disclaimer:** For the love of all humanity, I don't own any of this. I claim no knowledge of anyone's sexual habits except my own.

Matt comes out of the shower surrounded by a foggy haze and collapses on his respective bed, a towel wrapped around his hips. His hair spills around his head in dark, wet ringlets and already I can see the bruises forming from his match earlier. He and Adam beat the fuck out of each other... I doubt he can feel them, though. I don't think he can feel a damn thing, if the blank look on his face is any indication.

He rolls over onto his back and just lies there, eyes closed, chest rising and falling steadily. I want to turn back to my drawing, because I know he'll get mad at me for pestering him, but... I just can't. I hate seeing him like this. He doesn't bitch, or complain, or anything, when he's upset. He just... sulks. He gets this aura around him and sometimes it's hard not to get sucked in with him. Every time I've tried to comfort him, he just pushes me away.

Finally, the pen in my hand takes over again and I resume sketching erratic patterns onto the composition pages before me. After a few minutes, something interrupts my concentration. It sounds funny, like quiet snoring.

"Matt?" I ask. He doesn't answer, and I look over. He's still lying on his back, still wet from the shower, but...

Oh my fucking God, he's crying.

In half a second I'm up and over at him, kneeling beside him on the bed, trying to talk to him. He won't respond verbally, and he won't look at me. His face screws up a bit and I know he's trying to choke it back, but there's a problem with that. The more he tries to hold back his tears, the more they're taking over him.

"Matt, bro, come here," I urge him. For the first time since practically forever, he complies, and he sits up and leans against my chest. It's an awkward position, and fairly uncomfortable, but I let him do it. I feel his cheekbone against my sternum and then he's flat out bawling in my arms. His arms wrap around my torso and he hugs me so tightly I almost can't breathe, but I don't care.

I'm stroking his back, his hair, whispering to him and kissing his head, doing anything to make him feel loved. I wish I had the power to take everything in me and give it to him, because if I could, I would right now. Pour all of my energy, my life, into him. My brother rarely cries, I mean, this is the second time I've ever seen him do it. The first time was when Mom passed... but we all cried then.

He doesn't say anything as he sobs, and I just hold him and tell him anything. Somehow we end up with him almost entirely curled up on my lap. I didn't think he had this much in him, but I guess when you hold it all back...

After what feels like an excruciating eternity, he calms down and is limp in my arms, breathing heavily.

Then I guess his walls shoot back up, because he has stiffened in my grasp.

"Matty?" I ask cautiously. He pushes at me harshly and rolls off me, getting off the bed. His hair falls around his face and he pulls on a pair of boxers before going back into the bathroom and closing the door. He's hiding.

Now I'm kind of pissed. He finally let himself accept sympathy, only to fucking push me away again. Matthew... my only brother, why won't you understand that we all have these feelings at one time or another, that it's not wrong, or weak, to have them. You goddamn stubborn bastard.

I'm on my bare feet in an instant and knocking on the door that he's barricaded himself behind. He doesn't answer, but that's not surprising. I try the handle and it's unlocked. He's sitting on the counter, facing the mirror, staring into it.

"Why the fuck did she leave?" he asks me, "I gave her everything, Jeff. Everything in me. Everything I've ever felt. I gave her anything she wanted. I fucking... I _loved her_. What the fuck does... does _he_ have... that I don't?"

"Matt..." I can see the pain and the anger in his eyes. I can see it in his posture. He's beginning to break. Now, of all times. Not when he first found out. Not when she said it to his face. Not when he was fired. But now, after he and Adam beat the absolute shit out of each other earlier this evening. "Matt, I don't know. But it's over... it's done." I come up behind him and carefully touch his shoulders to see if he'll push me off again. He doesn't.

His eyes shift to look at me hovering behind him. I start to stroke his back again, gently using my nails because I know how much he loves having his shoulder blades scratched. He barely even notices, but I guess I can't blame him too much. Or it might be the fact that I don't really have nails... I bite them down too damn far.

"I just want to forget about it," he whispers, "Even if it's just for a night. It's been so hard not to drink this away, Jeff. I've wanted to do anything to just let it go away. I even... I got something after the show tonight," His voice drips with guilt and he gestures to his bag sitting on the back of the toilet. It's slightly open and I don't think I want to know what's in it. At the same time...

I take a step back and glance in. My eyes go wide. It's a mason jar half-filled with something that I know all too well.

"Matt... what grade is that?" I ask, my voice shakier than I've ever heard it. I'm looking straight at him, and he matches my gaze. I already know his answer.

"Fourth. The purest I could get." I take another look in the bag.

"That's enough heroin to kill a fucking horse, Matt."

"I know."

He's completely serious and I feel my heart almost stop. My eyes feel tight and I know I want to cry. I step up behind him again and touch him, sliding my fingertips up and down his arms, thinking... God, how can I bring him back from this? I look at him, at us, in the mirror, and he's looking at himself steadily. He's analyzing himself, looking for any possible flaw that he can blame for Amy's infidelity. As I run my fingers along his skin, I feel a tremble that reminds me of a night years ago, back in Cameron -

I've got it.

I take his chin in my hand and turn him to face me. I stare into his soulful eyes and let my face lean close to his.

"Do you remember... when we were younger... that one night?" I whisper.

"Yes," the answer shoots out of his mouth before I even finish the question. He was anticipating it.

"And you said 'just this one time'?"

"Yes." His lips are trembling at this point, and I know we're both thinking the same thing. I pause. I seriously think my heart's going to fall the fuck out through my feet if it keeps beating this hard. I swallow and lean close to him, letting my lips graze against his ear.

"Let me help you forget... just this one time." I hear his breath hitch as I use his own words against him. We look at each other for maybe two seconds and then I can't take it anymore. I kiss him. My eyes slide shut as he accepts it, returns it voraciously, and his hands grip my forearms. I don't know about Matt, but I have relived that night when we were teens a thousand times in my head. The sound of him, the feel of him, how perfect it was. How _right_ it was, even if society dictates that it wasn't... We have never spoken of it since then, but sometimes I've noticed tension between us. Something that isn't between other brothers.

But that's all gone now; all I care about is my tongue against his full lips and sliding into his mouth to stroke at the heat within. He murmurs between us and I pull him tight to me, my hands cupping his face and petting his neck and just touching him everywhere.

He wraps his legs around my waist and I put my hands under his wonderful ass, carefully lifting him off the counter and walking back out into the bedroom of our suite. I set him gently on the bed and follow him down, our lips parting for only a few moments as we adjust the situation. Matt groans deep in his chest and I run a hand down his torso, feeling the hard muscles underneath his moist skin. He feels so perfect...

He's pulling at my wife beater and we separate for a second so he can remove it. Once it's gone, flung to parts unknown, our hungry kisses resume. His strong hands run up and down my back, pausing at times to play with the hem of my black jeans.

"Matty..." I whisper when we come up for air.

"Yeah?" he's looking up at me and I know that everything I'm feeling is reflected in his eyes.

"Nothing."

He smiles just slightly and an urge grasps me. I need to taste him. I've wanted to ever since I can remember... and this may be my only opportunity. Not only that, but I want to make him completely forget the events of the past weeks, if only for a little while... and if my mouth can't do that, then nothing in this fucking world can.

I shift down his body and look at his cock straining against his boxers. My hands cup it and squeeze, causing him to moan softly. He's so perfectly hard, and my mouth is starting to water just thinking about how my Matty will taste. I know he's watching me as I pull the cloth down off him. He lifts his hips up to aid me in undressing him and then my tongue is lapping at his head. Matt groans and I see his hands ball up into fists. I close my eyes, resisting the urge to watch him, and focus on my task. God, he tastes like heaven, he tastes like smoke and musk and I want to swallow him down right fucking now. But not yet.

I wrap a hand around the base of him, pumping gently as I lick at him. The head slips easily past my lips and he hisses as I apply suction. I've done this to guys countless times, but never have I been as turned on as I am now, with my brother's cock in my mouth. This is so fucking wrong, but God I love it. The impossibly soft skin of his member rubbing against my lips...

My right hand finds his balls and fondles them, rolling them in my palm, as I bob up and down on him. He's generally quiet, with a moan once in a while, but it doesn't bother me. I know he's enjoying this... although he isn't very vocal, his body is twitching and tensing, undulating beneath my touch.

That thought is only reaffirmed when I feel his hand tangle into my hair.

"Jeffrey..." he whispers and I smile to myself. I adjust my angle a little bit and then, without giving him any warning at all, take him entirely down. Matt grunts and his hips buck up and I force myself to relax completely. Within seconds he's fucking my throat and we're both making small sounds of pleasure. This is what I wanted...

The hand in my hair starts to grab at random and I know what's going on. I suck harder and get ready and then, there it is, his back is arched off the bed and he's crying out his orgasm. I barely get to taste his come before it's down my throat and I keep myself swallowing so I don't choke.

"Jeff, oh fucking God, Jeff," he sobs as he finishes, and then his hand relaxes and he lets me up. I sit up and kneel back, watching him recuperate from what I'm willing to bet was the best damn blowjob of his life. His eyes open just slightly and he looks at me. I see his eyes dart to my erection, straining hopefully against the tough confines of denim.

"Want to make it a fair trade from all those years ago?" he asks, brows arching suggestively. My eyes widen. I never in a million years would have thought that he would ask for this...

"Matt... are you sure? I mean... you're a virgin, aren't you?"

"I might as well be. The last time I took it was... damn, five years ago. But I don't care. Fuck me. Now." His eyes are narrowed dangerously and his last few words are nothing but a demand. There is no way in fucking hell I'm going to not take him up on this. I lean down to him and kiss him again a few times, then get up and go over to my own personal bag. I find what I'm looking for - a rubber and lube - and go back to him, shedding my clothing as I go. He welcomes me back with a deep kiss and I set the rubber on the bedside table, smearing lube on my right hand. Matt spreads his legs for me but shudders when I touch him with the cold liquid.

"Don't prepare me completely," he growls, "I want it to hurt." I comply and spread it harshly, just barely penetrating him with my middle finger to get the lube in. Then I'm rolling the rubber on my dick, slathering KY on it as liberally as he'll let me. I reach for his legs and he puts his ankles on my shoulders, my arms holding me above him and the head of my cock pressing to his entrance. I stop for a second, looking deep into him, making sure he really wants this. His hands stroke up and down my sides, and then grab at my shoulders.

"Do it," his voice reverberates in my conscience and I squeeze my eyes shut and thrust. At first it feels like I'm not gonna make it, but his body parts for me in the end. His resulting cry is tinged with pain but it sounds more like a true release of anger. He basically orders me to fuck him and I jump to the task, slamming into him brutally right out of the gate. Holy bitching shit, he's so fucking tight... this has to be hurting him, but he said he wanted it...

Within moments, the headboard is thunking noisily against the wall but it is barely audible over the sounds of Matt's howling. I myself am making a fair amount of noise, but it's nothing compared to him. It's odd, actually, that he would be so quiet while his dick was being sucked, but so loud now...

"Goddamnit, you fucking bastard, I can't even fucking feel it," he hisses at me through clenched teeth. That fucking makes me angry. I'm doing my best here, you shit bag. I wrap a hand around his throat and throttle him as I increase my pace. I'm fucking him so hard that it hurts me too at this point, but it finally seems to satisfy him. He wheezes but doesn't try to stop me as I add pressure, fully cutting off his air supply. I close my eyes and just ride him, letting all of the pent-up feelings I've had for him for way too long release themselves. I pour every ounce of my soul into him, and I know I'm getting ready to come.

He's thrashing under me and I let him breathe again for about fifteen seconds. He glares at me and I can feel it even though my eyes are shut. God, he's so fucking hot inside, and knowing what it's like to feel my brother from within... I choke him again and he's writhing under me and I think I'm screaming enough to cover for him for the moment.

I feel the brink of release coming at me faster than lightning and then Matt tightens and spasms around me. Nails tear into my back and I growl in pain as he flays me open. He's fucking coming again. I take my hand from his throat and he's howling at the top of his lungs as he splatters us both with his second orgasm.

That's it, the feeling of him spasming around me is too much and I come just as he's finishing, pounding into his body with my quickly decreasing strength. I cry his name and then it's gone, it's over, and I'm at the point of passing out.

He lies beneath me and we hold each other as we both come down from a kind of high that I've never gotten from drugs. He's breathing into my ear and it reminds me of the ocean.

I think I fall asleep for a little bit, because I'm suddenly jolted awake by him touching my cheek.

"Jeff?"

"Yeah?" I reply, groggy as shit. I feel like I just got injected with pure endorphins and the only way my body can react is with sleep.

"We need to clean up." I realize that I must have fallen out of him, and I'm almost completely soft. Reaching down, I carefully pull the condom off me and toss it in the trashcan beside the bed stand. I wince when I see blood on it.

"I'm not moving," I grumble, "Just go to sleep. You're okay, right?"

"Yeah... the best I've felt in awhile, actually... although my ass is going to hurt like hell tomorrow," he reaches over and flips the light off. We're both covered in his cum and both my back and his ass is probably nothing but blood, but I know that neither of us cares anymore. He rolls onto his side and curls into my arms and we kiss again.

"Jeffrey?" he says quietly.

"Mmph?"

"Remember what you said when you left? That night?"

"Yeah...?" I reply. He pauses for a second.

"Well... I love you too. And I don't care if this is wrong."

"I don't either, Matt." I kiss the top of his head, "Goodnight."

"G'night... oh, and Jeff?"

"What now, damnit?" I'm starting to get a little annoyed. Just let me sleep, damn you...

"I don't think that this will be just a 'once'," he chuckles and I can't help but smile.

"Yeah... probably not. Now go to fucking sleep."

His reply is only a snore.


End file.
